Self Defense
by schaferdramaqueen
Summary: Katrina asks Arya to teach her swordcraft. Not slash. Whipped this up while re-reading Brisingr and rolling my eyes at Arya's denial. She's not fooling anyone.


**Yeah, here we go. I thought these two should talk, their romantic partners being cousins 'n' all.**

Self-Defense

"I wish to learn the sword."

Arya looked up from the parchment she had been reading, characteristically impassive despite the sudden appearance of the woman before her. Katrina, for her part, kept her gaze firm and steady, though Arya could detect a slight trembling around her jaw.

When the elf declined to respond, Katrina shifted self-consciously on the packed earth. Her fingers began to knot around each other, but she caught herself and folded them into fists. "I would not go longer unable to defend myself."

Exhaling- were she any lesser, it would have been a sigh- Arya set aside the parchment and leaned forward in her chair. "You are not _un_able."

Katrina's hand flew to her cheek, touching the lingering paleness that she knew to be there but could not see. Something odd colored her eyes for a moment. "I am not quite able, either."

Not insulting her with a protest, Arya instead glanced pointedly to the slight rounding at the woman's midsection. Sensing the censure, Katrina folded her arms around herself; she did not, however, break her stare.

"You are not of a condition to fight in a battle," said Arya gently, though she did not smile. "Even before that, the sword itself may prove too strenuous…they are quite heavy."

Katrina's face darkened in a scowl. "I am not so foolish as to expect to wield a mighty blade with abandon the first lesson. I may not have the strength of elves," and here she inclined her head a fraction, "but I am born and bred at the foot of the spine. I am not either weak."

"I speak not of you, but of your child- you must know this. Your fortitude is undoubtable. But there have been too many needless deaths lately to add a baby yet unborn to the score." Expecting her to leave, Arya turned back to her reading. Katrina shook her head and took a step into the tent.

"We can use willow switches, as I have seen boys do. I…please, do not turn me away. I think I have proved I am stubborn."

They studied each other for a long moment. Outside, a muffled yell and the clang of metal on metal danced tantalizing on the wind, underlining the urgency of Katrina's request. At last Arya pursed her lips.

"Why do you seek swordcraft? Archery would be more easily accepted. Daggers and staves both simpler and in greater supply. Yet you ask after the most difficult."

Now that rejection was not immediately apparent Katrina's shoulders relaxed. "Because neither a dagger nor a staff is much use to a man with a broadsword," she smirked, "or a hammer. And as for a bow, I confess a silly personal reason. I mislike the idea of giving- or getting- death without warning, from messengers near impossible to dodge."

"Delicacy has no place in war." What little warmth in Arya's voice had dissipated. "Your enemy will not hold himself to these high ideals-"

"I know!" Katrina covered her face. "I know. But these are my reasons. Make of them what you will; my appeal still stands."

Again, a silence.

"Please understand, though," said Katrina after a time, "My intention is not to join the fray, at least not at once. As you have pointed out, I must protect my child," she rubbed her stomach reflexively "and I would be worse than useless in a real fight. What my heart needs more than anything is a way to defend myself, and the little one, against forces I cannot-" she broke off. "It will be a mercy to be _doing _something."

Arya was impassive. "And why me?"

Katrina met her eyes squarely. "Different as our races are, you are also, like me, female. You would not laugh and bat me away like the men would, solely for my gender. And you are a warrior. You will not be overly soft with me. I will learn."

In one fluid movement, Arya stood and clasped the woman's arm. "Aye," she said, "You will learn."

* * *

Arya was, as expected, a demanding teacher, but she took care not to overexert her student. They fought with the stem of a thin woody plant (willows having been impossible to find) that Arya had once identified with a trio of words in the ancient language which Katrina had promptly forgotten. It was frustrating that Arya did not tire, but she did slow her movements to match that of a human, and the gratitude for that far outweighed the irritation.

They had drawn quite a crowd at first, the butcher's daughter and the elf, tall and wraithlike in her ubiquitous raiment of black; but that had passed after the first couple of days. There was much more interesting in a camp readying itself to march on a tyrant. Roran's predicted shouting match had not arrived- he had looked for a moment as if he were choking on his own tongue, but after a fierce whispered conversation with Katrina he had not interfered. In any case he was now deep in the empire on a scouting mission and so was not currently around to disapprove.

"Toes!" Arya called as Katrina once again forgot and let them jam together. She stumbled and, almost falling, righted herself. Sweat stained her back and armpits.

"Halt!" Katrina collapsed thankfully to the ground, accepting with a quiet word the pitcher of water Arya offered her. She had allowed a single complaint to pass her lips over the course of her instruction, but Arya had known from the start when a rest was needed.

When she was somewhat refreshed, Katrina yawned and lay back against the earth. Arya had insisted upon holding her sessions in the grass around the maze of tents and the waxy green blades made a comfortable enough cushion for sore muscles. Setting down her "weapon," also, Arya crouched beside her student.

Katrina's hand, as it always did when she took her leisure, rested softly on the growing curve of her belly. She traced absentminded circles there as she stared up to the clear sky, dotted here and there with wisps of cloud.

"Surda is a beautiful country," she murmured sleepily. Then she realized Arya's stare. The elf had an odd mixture of tenderness and grief as she gazed at Katrina's waist, and for a moment Katrina felt intrusive.

As if catching the tenor of her thoughts, Arya blinked and the expression passed. "I hope only that your child not have to suffer the pain of this uncertain time; forgive me. I am not used to such a thing. Elves are born but seldom, and our babes are far between and strangely gifted."

Katrina wrinkled her forehead. "Why is that? Surely you have enough of you- ah, I am sorry, I did not mean to be so bold."

Arya smiled. "You need not apologize. Our customs are, naturally, very different from those of humans; being granted eternity, we often take more than one mate in the course of a life. It is not so much a question of lack of love but of boredom-" she stopped.

Fingers twining in the grass, Katrina dared to search the other's face. "With the probability of a break, you would want a child only if you were sure of your devotion…is this true?"

The elf has dropped back into her usual impenetrable self. "Aye."

"I could not imagine ever taking another but Roran," Katrina said, resuming her inspection of the blue overhead. "It is…beyond my ken."

"That, too." Out the corner of her eye, Katrina could see Arya sit, crossing her legs. "There have been only two half-elf children that I know of, and for that very reason; once the commitment was made, the human partner would die and the elf would be forced to endure forever without them. Far easier to push away before a situation like that is at hand."

"Is that why you will not see Eragon?" Katrina had spoken without thinking, and the instant her cousin-in-law's name left her lips she regretted it. A cold breeze shivered against her side, Arya having stood swifter than a cat leaping; Katrina coward inwardly at what must be Arya's glower, but managed to steel herself and look up.

"Eragon is immortal now," said Arya, deceptively offhand. "So you see, I have not such a petty reason as that."

Katrina's second shiver had nothing to do with the wind.

"I am aware of his regard for me," continued Arya, in the same carefully casual tone of voice. "But the feeling is unreturned."

This raised Katrina's brows, and she was glad the elf had stopped studying her. _That _explanation had never crossed her mind. _Why, any fool with half a mind could see…_

"I thank you for your concern." The underside of Arya's chin managed to convey a deep contempt. She was five steps away before she halted and turned around.

"Tomorrow, I think, we will practice the swing from overhead;" and she spun sharply and marched away.

Katrina remained for some minutes longer, stroking her stomach, her elbow folded beneath her head, frowning thoughtfully at the few lonely flying birds.

**Yah, not so great, but whatever, it worked in my head but…you get the drift. You understand it. Review anyways, please...? **


End file.
